


One Per Person

by mll



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:29:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2549243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mll/pseuds/mll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerome was told to give out one piece of candy per person on Halloween. Cynthia disagrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Per Person

**Author's Note:**

> A gerocyn birthday gift for my friend Bri (doompumpkin.tumblr.com)! Because I know too many people who have October birthdays apparently.

It was the last house on the block that Cynthia had set her sights on; prime corner real estate. The yard followed a high slope thanks to several levels of enclosed gardens and some probably expensive landscaping which traditionally meant that the neighborhood's children would take this as too much of a challenge to be worth whatever candy they were giving out. 

Not Cynthia. On Halloween, she followed one rule above all else: if the driveway light was on, the house was fair game and she would be trick-or-treating there no matter the cost. If it wasn't, then, of course, a serial murderer probably lived there and she should move swiftly on to the next house before she activated some kind of trap in the yard (or so said her mother).

She looked at the time—9:30 PM, dangerously close to the end of the period of acceptable trick-or-treating. Not by her standards, of course, but whenever she'd tried past 10 she always got a lot of angry door slams. 

“Do we really have to go up there?” Morgan, in his oversized dragon suit, had been a continual stick in the mud this entire night due to the long tail that kept dragging behind him whenever they would run to the next house. It was like he didn't know what this holiday was even about—wearing sensible yet stylish costumes that allowed you to obtain the greatest amount of candy in the least amount of time. Owain, a ninja this year, had had the right idea. Kids like Morgan never understood this principle, but his parents had asked Owain's to bring him along tonight, since Lucina had been too busy studying to take him.

“Of course, that's what a hero would do!”

“It's our destiny!”

She could always count on Owain to back her up.

“But, uh...my moms kinda said I have to be back by 9:45. So I don't think I can go up there.”

Or not.

“What d'you mean you have to go home?! We just have this one house left!”

“Well, when Mama Maribelle says I have to be back, I gotta go back.” This was true. There were stories about what happened when Owain wasn't home past curfew.

“I wanna go back too!” Morgan seemed to have taken this as an excuse to get out of any more tripping over himself.

“Fine! If you guys are too weak to take advantage of this, then I'll go myself!”

It had to be worth it. If there was one thing her father, Gaius, had ever told her, a hard-to-reach house at the end of the night would yield untold candy riches. 

Making her way in long strides across the yard to minimize travel time, Cynthia rang the doorbell and heard its cheery noise reverberate through the house in front of her. No response. Impatiently, she peered through the frosted glass windows. There was definitely someone in there, watching TV. She rung the bell again.

A faint groan could be heard from inside. Jeez, if they didn't want to give out any candy, they shouldn't have turned their light on.

Slowly, the door opened to reveal a slender young man with blonde, flyaway hair—and, most notably, humongous sunglasses covering most of his face. At night.

“Trick or treat!” 

The boy seemed bewildered to hear this, as if he was just now figuring out that it was Halloween. She pushed her pillowcase closer towards him.

“Alright.”

He reached into a (heaping full!!) bowl of candy on the table, took out one Almond Joy, and dropped it into her stash. Cynthia continued to hold it out. She hated Almond Joys.

“That's it.” 

“...that's it?” Cynthia had not climbed up this boy's entire mountain of a front lawn for a single piece of candy.

“One per person.” He motioned to close the door, but Cynthia stopped it with her foot. This was not going to happen.

“But you have a huge, full bowl right next to you, and it's the end of the night! What're you going to do with all that, eat it?”

“That's usually what you do with candy.”

“Is it? Is it, when you're the one supposed to be giving it out?”

He adjusted his sunglasses. Jeez, she wished he'd just take them off, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Though they did make him look kind of dashing, like some kind of modern day greaser.

“My mother told me I could only give out one per person.”

“Look, I—what's your name again?”

“I didn't say it.”

“But what's your name anyway?” 

“Gerome.” God, he was so cool. Just from seeing him she could tell he was the kind of sleek, stoic, anti-hero type.

“Gerome, look. Don't listen to your mom. You have so much candy right there that you could be giving to me, a girl abandoned by all her friends in coming up your huge lawn! That would be a better idea than eating it all yourself.”

“That doesn't sound quite right.” 

Gerome began to back off (coolly, of course) as she stared at him, clearly pierced by her gaze. Or, at least that was what she assumed. She couldn't really tell with those glasses of his.

“I mean, what're you even supposed to be?” He looked her up and down, and though she couldn't see where his eyes were looking, she felt a not entirely unpleasant sensation of being checked out. Impressed by her beauty, no doubt. If she looked closely, she swore she could see him flushing a little at the cheeks.

“I'm a hero, can't you tell?” She had spent hours cutting that armor out of cardboard and putting it together, drawing its designs and even shading it at the edges (which no one had bothered to even compliment). Her parents had offered to help, but this was something she'd had to do for herself. 

“...No.” Cynthia, for some reason, felt her heart drop over the opinion of this stranger. 

“So you don't think it looks good?”

“That's not what I meant!” She could definitely see he was blushing now. Butterflies threatened to emerge from her stomach. He was sorry. “It looks...fine. Great.” 

She leaned closer towards him. “You really mean that?”

“Sure.”

“What do you like about it?” She hoped he'd mention the breast plate. That was her best work.

“Uh...” He pointed vaguely in the direction of her chest. “That one. Why are you even asking me this?” This sounded suspiciously like a cop out.

“You're not even looking.” Hoping she wasn't being too forward, she reached out and brought him in closer by the shoulder. She could feel the heat from his body. Ooh, and some muscle there, too. Clearly he worked out. Maybe they could work out together.

His cheeks were bright red, now. “I really don't see why this is necessary, I can barely see what you want me to look at.”

“Well, maybe you should take off those glasses.” Please.

He pulled back. “No!” What a guy. She was considering upgrading him from anti-hero to regular hero. A hero never went back on his principles, after all, and clearly this was one of them.

“If you don't need to take them off to see, then you should be able to tell me what's the best part of my armor.” He wouldn't be able to get out of this one.

After a reluctant silence, he finally responded. 

“I like the shading on the breastplate, but on all the other pieces of armor as well. It's really remarkable.”

...he'd noticed. Even with those dumb sunglasses, he'd noticed everything she'd wanted him to see, even what her family and friends hadn't. This was an extremely monumental occasion.

Unfortunately, she had no idea how to respond. Whenever her dad complimented her mom, she just kind of squealed, but that didn't seem quite appropriate for this situation.

“...Are you okay?”

Cynthia realized that she'd been standing there in quiet shock for a significant amount of time.

“Yeah! Yeah, totally fine! I'm really glad you noticed!” She wasn't sure what to say after that, but she was certain nothing good was about to come out of her mouth if she said what she was really thinking and how she really wanted to take off his sunglasses right now and stare into the (presumably) dreamy eyes that lay underneath. “...my name's Cynthia.”

“Nice to meet you.” A man of few words. He was so hot.

“So, uh, I want to thank you.” Cynthia hoped he knew what she meant.

“For what?” Okay, then, maybe not.

She didn't know how to answer that question without embarrassing herself, so she did something equally as embarrassing: leaning forward and planting her lips on his.

Gerome made a low noise of surprise, but he didn't break away. Cynthia assumed this was a good sign, and they continued on this way for quite some time. 

Unfortunately, she had no idea how one generally ended a kiss. She hadn't had many before outside games of spin the bottle, and so she was becoming increasingly worried about how long this was supposed to last. Ideally, forever. 

So it was beyond her wildest dreams when she felt Gerome wrap a shy arm around her waist, and she stepped back with a start. 

He'd felt the same.

Gerome seemed bewildered, almost chagrined. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! Nothing! You were...you were great. That was great.” And, of course, she'd screwed it all up. He was such a gentleman. “I'll just take the candy now and go. Just one piece, right?” All her chances of getting any more were gone by now.

“...Wait.” She turned her head. “I mean...I can't give you any more pieces to take with you, but if you stay here...” His voice trailed off, not sure what he was trying to say. “You could get more.”

He was inviting her to stay over. Cynthia immediately sprung back into action. “Yes! Yes, I would love to do that! What're you watching on TV, we can watch together!”

“...Batman,” he said shyly. “There's a marathon on.” He was perfect.

Cynthia gazed at the huge bowl of candy next to his couch, eager to see their choice of snacks. Maybe they could even feed them to each other.

“...it's all Almond Joys.” How could she have been so blind?

“They're my favorite.”

So this was going to take a little working on, maybe. But they had time.


End file.
